


(make me) hurt

by appalachian_fireflies



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bondage, Consensual Non-Consent, Crying, Depression, Dom/sub, F/M, Fisting, Gags, Gangbang, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Needles, Oral Sex, Sadism, Sounding, Spitroasting, Strap-Ons, Subspace, Whipping, depressed!Steve, masochist steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appalachian_fireflies/pseuds/appalachian_fireflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ice took what was left of Steve, and now he's hollow, drifting.  He needs help to feel alive again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(make me) hurt

Steve comes back from his early morning run to an empty apartment. The morning silence fills the space while he pours a glass of water from the shining, refitted vintage fridge that SHIELD provided him. He runs his fingers over the formica countertop. _Tap, tap, tap_. The small sound is loud and strange in the room, accompanied only by the soft ticking of a clock. 

He washes the glass in the sink and leaves it in the drying rack with his plate from the night before. He goes to the living room (he has his own living room, in an apartment to himself in _New York_ ) and plucks out one of the books SHIELD had suggested to catch up on the time he’s missed. He sits in a reading chair by the window, book open on his lap, and stares out at the city. He goes still, breathing slowly and steadily, as time drifts away from him. _Tick, tick, tick_.

He watches the sun growing in the sky, the people below filling the streets as the day reaches its full brightness. The sky is a bright, cloudless blue. The trees are verdant, darkling the sidewalks below them as people slip in and out of the shade. He thinks about trying to capture the city in a sketch, but he can’t seem to get up from the chair, to grab a pencil, much less try to channel the distant beauty. His stomach grumbles. He knows his metabolism demands more food than he has been giving it, but the thought of food is completely unappealing. The sun rises to its zenith, and a baby wails next door. 

Later in the afternoon, Steve’s stomach angrily begins to eat itself, giving him sharp hunger pains. He pays attention to the sensation for a while and it feels familiar, right in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. He had gotten so used to chronic pain before the serum; this was nothing, really. It is only the thought that he would be culpable if he allowed his body to be weak and potentially fail if he were called in for an emergency that brings him to open a can of beans. He hops onto the countertop, eating from the can with a spoon, then toasts half a loaf of bread. He rinses the can, places it in the recycling bin with the empty milk jug, and returns to the chair. 

As evening settles in, the hollowness in Steve that during the day had been a peaceful, dreamy passivity becomes an aching hole, impossible to ignore. He draws his knees up in the chair and closes his eyes, his mind an empty track of the traffic and occasional shouts below, and he does not remember. The faces of the Commandoes, Peggy, Bucky- they’ve left him and in their wake there is empty space. He doesn’t feel sadness; he feels hollowed out. The apartment feels like a comfortable tomb, and he wants to sit here until the hollowness inside him eats him from the inside out. He goes to the door, gets his jacket and hat, takes his keys. He needs to be anywhere but this apartment, empty of life and full of ghosts. 

Steve pulls the brim of his hat low over his eyes in the darkness, feeling even more at odds with the world as he watches people mill about him- getting groceries, holding hands, laughing and tipsy in short skirts, talking on their phones. He needs to be pulled, kicking and screaming back into life. And now he knows what he’s looking for. 

He’d left his smartphone at the apartment, knowing SHIELD would track it, so it takes a couple hours to find what he is looking for. When he goes to knock on the door of the basement and feels a nervous flutter of anticipation, he knows he’s doing the right thing. 

A large, broadly muscled man wearing a black button-down opens the door and takes him in, smiling. “Well, hello. I don’t suppose you’ve gotten turned around looking for Times Square?” 

Steve chuckles. “Nah, I came here hoping you could help me out with something.”

“Alright kid, let’s see what we can do then.” Steve’s heart clenches. It’s the first indication he’s been given that someone sees that he is only 26. The man shakes his hand. “My name’s Luke.” They move down the dark stairs into the basement below. In the first room they walk through, there is a beautiful fat woman tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross, giggling and moaning as she’s being paddled. 

“Hey Sam, ya big exhibitionist,” Luke calls, “how’s Dan treatin’ ya?”

“I don’t know,” she said, pouting, “he won’t hit me, can’t even feel his love taps.” The man behind her, Dan, spanked her bare-handed with a loud smack, and she gasped. She wiggled her bottom and giggled. “Nah, he treats me fine,” she said, and winked. 

Luke waved and moved Steve into a smaller adjacent room. He sits in a plastic chair and points to a second. Steve sits. 

“So,” Luke starts, “what’re you here for, son?” 

Steve swallows. “I want to be hurt,” he said, keeping his tone steady. 

Luke tilted his head. “Why’s that?”

“I…” Steve paused. “I need to feel something. I lost, a lot, all of my friends, they.” He stopped. “They’re all dead now. And I just feel… empty. And I can’t live like that, anymore.” 

Luke nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss, son." He paused. "I think we can figure something out. Have anything in mind?” Steve sighed in relief. He wasn’t used to people just listening to him, taking him at his word, and he was damned grateful. The shrink SHIELD sent him to was kind enough, but she couldn’t reach him. 

“Not exactly,” Steve shrugged. “I used to solicit, sometimes, back in the day. And I saw some of this, didn’t hate it. Didn’t really try much of it myself, though.”

“How do you feel about impact stuff? Whips, floggers?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’m interested in that. I heal really fast though, so you shouldn’t be afraid to use force.”

“Marks?” the man asked. “Breaking skin?”

Steve nodded. “It’ll heal. I won’t scar.”

The man was silent for a moment, nodding. “You Steve Rogers?”

Steve’s stomach plummeted. “I-“ 

“It’s ok, son,” the man said, “you wouldn’t be the first celebrity to come through here. We have people leave phones and cameras at the door before a scene, anyway.” 

Steve swallowed. “Ok.” 

“Likely that people’ll recognize you, though, with your face all over the news,” the man said. Steve nodded. 

“How should we handle protection?” Luke asked. 

“I don’t need it,” Steve said. “I can’t contract anything. They tested it.” 

“Huh. How do you feel about bondage?” Luke said, tilting his head.

“I’d like to be restrained,” Steve said. “But I’m not sure you’d have anything that can hold me.”

“You want that?” Luke asked. 

“Yeah,” Steve said. 

“I wouldn’t worry, I think we can find something.”

Steve nodded. “Ok.” 

“What about fucking?” Luke asked. “That on the table? Doesn’t have to be, of course.”

Steve’s cock twitched. “That’s… on the table,” he replied. 

“How do you feel about genders?”

“Any,” Steve replied. 

“Oral?” the man asked. “Anal?”

“Both,” Steve said, his mouth going dry. 

“Ok,” the man replied easily, and Steve appreciated that he didn’t question him. “What about lubricant? What would be bad pain when you’re being fucked?” 

“Bad tearing,” Steve said. “But some tearing and a little blood is fine, actually, I’ll heal fast.”

“When you say it’s fine…” Luke prompted. 

“I’d prefer to be hurt,” Steve said, heart beating fast. “Spit as lubricant is fine.” 

“How many people are you interested in? Just one? Two? More?”

“Um,” Steve blushed despite himself. “As many as are interested. I want to feel overwhelmed, like I’m in danger.” 

“Anything I should worry about with triggers, you hurting other people or you feeling unsafe or upset?”

“No,” Steve said, “I won’t hurt anyone. And I want… to feel that. Whatever you can make me feel, I need it. If that makes sense.” 

“Sure it does,” Luke replied easily. “What about other kinds of pain? Needles, genital torture?”

Steve nodded. 

“I’m gonna need a yes or no, son, sorry.” 

“Yes,” Steve said. “To both. Needles are fine without any syringes. Otherwise they just make me think of hospitals.” 

“Sure,” Luke said. “Gags? Blindfolds?”

“Yes.” 

“Limits?” 

Steve paused, thinking. “No permanent damage. I’m not into scat or urination.” 

“Homophobic slurs?” the man said. 

“Those are fine, don’t really care either way,” Steve shrugged. 

“How do you feel about traffic lights as a safeword? Green for things are good and keep going, yellow for pause and talk about something, red for end the scene completely and drop everything.” 

“That’s fine,” Steve said. 

“If you say no, or stop, or anything else, how should we respond to that?”

“Ignore me,” Steve replied, shifting. “Hurt me anyway.” 

“Ok,” Luke said. “Not everyone might be willing to do that, and your top may safeword out as well. If you consent, I’ll be the DM, and if I say red we end the scene, even if you say green.”

“I consent,” Steve replied. 

“Anything else that should end the scene? Or that should tell me you got what you came for?”

Steve stared at the wall. “I think I need to be broken, somehow. I feel,” he rubbed a hand over his chest, “tight, but like I can’t snap.” 

“What about if you start crying? What should I be thinking if that happens?” Luke said, no judgment in his voice. 

“That,” Steve whispered. “Not if I’m just tearing up, but. If I really cry. If you could do that, I want that.” 

“Ok,” Luke said gently. “Anything else you want to tell me?” 

“No, sir.”

Luke smiled. “I like that. Feel free to keep using that.”

“Yessir,” Steve said with a grin. Luke patted him on the shoulder. “Ok, I’m gonna go talk to some people, maybe call a few people up. Might take a while. You need anything?”

“No, sir,” Steve replied. 

“Alright,” Luke said. “If you want to call this off at any time, before or after we start, you do that. You won’t be disappointing anyone. As much as we enjoy it, this is for you, and we want you here ‘cause you want to be, understand?”

“I understand,” Steve replied. 

“Good,” Luke nodded. “Stick around, I’ll be back.” 

Luke was gone for a little over a half an hour while Steve waited patiently, spacing. He was relieved when Luke came back through the door; he hadn’t even realized the tension he’d been feeling when he’d left, but he immediately began to feel more grounded. 

“Ok,” Luke said, “you still interested?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve replied. 

“Good,” Luke said, his tone shifting to low and approving. “Strip,” he commanded. 

Steve stripped bare, his heart pounding. Luke, fully clothed, looked him over appraisingly. “Test these out for me,” Luke said, extending a pair of handcuffs. They were thick, intimidatingly heavy metal cuffs, and would have been absurdly large on almost anyone else. Steve extended his wrists. 

“Behind your back, I think,” Luke said. “Turn.” He tightened the cuffs and locked them. Steve’s cock jumped. He’d have a difficult time getting out of the cuffs, if he could at all. “Move your fingers.” Luke moved a finger around the inside of the cuff and over Steve’s wrist. “How’s your circulation?”

“Good, sir,” Steve replied. 

“Turn back around,” Luke said. “Close your eyes.” Steve felt a piece of fabric move over his eyes, then Luke tied it around the back of his head. “Open them,” Luke said. Steve could only see faint light through the blindfold. 

“What are your safewords?” Luke asked. 

“Green for go, yellow for pause, red for stop,” Steve replied. 

“Good,” Luke patted his shoulder, then grabbed Steve’s bicep. “Come with me,” he commanded. 

Steve followed, stumbling slightly in the dark as they passed through rooms with other occupants, with the occasional moan or crack of a whip to his right or left. He flushed with embarrassment at the thought of strangers seeing him, cuffed, blindfolded, and completely nude, his dick swinging limply between his legs. His only grounding was Luke’s hand, firm and steady on his arm. 

“Ok,” Luke said finally. The blindfold came off. Steve’s eyes adjusted to the dim room, and his heart began to beat wildly. There were maybe twenty people in the room of various genders, all of them looking at him. 

“How are you feeling?” Luke said firmly. 

“Green,” Steve croaked. Oh god, he was going to do this, right now. 

Luke nodded toward three large men. “Take him to the cross,” he said. 

The men wasted no time hustling Steve over to the metal St. Andrew’s Cross, and Steve shook with adrenaline, resisting the natural urge to fight back. They unattached his cuffs and reattached each to the upper points of the metal X, then spread his legs and attached each ankle to the bottom two points of the X. Steve tested the ankle cuffs; they were metal as well, and had been bolted into the floor. Steve struggled futilely, and his cock hardened, but the cross kept him from getting any friction to soothe his need. 

“Hey Andy,” Luke called out, “I heard you’re alright with a whip?”

The group of people laughed. Steve heard a whip crack on the floor, and he shivered. 

“Don’t hold back,” Luke called out, “he says he wants to be hurt. Think you can give him that?” 

Andy whistled. “I sure can try!”

Suddenly, the whip cracked loudly against Steve’s back, leaving a red hot line of sharp pain as he cried out.

“You like that?” Andy called out. 

“Yes, sir!” Steve answered. 

Andy laughed. “Goddamn, I love these pain sluts. Count ‘em, or you’re not gettin’ ‘em!” he said. 

“One!” Steve called out. The whip cracked against his back. “Two.” The whip continued flaying into his back, each line a sharp burst of pain, lingering like a burn. “Twenty-five,” he grunted. 

Some of the people in the room were hissing in sympathy. “Damn,” someone whispered. His entire back burned with pain. “Thirty.” He flinched away from the whip, crying out. 

“Count!” Andy shouted. 

“Stop, please,” Steve said. The whip cracked against his back, and he cried out and struggled. “Nah, I don’t think you’re done yet,” said Andy. “Why don’t you take a little more for me?”

Steve’s back was bleeding now, he could feel it. “Thirty-two,” he hissed. “Thirty-three.” He started to panic a bit, and his thoughts spiraled. What if he never got out of these cuffs? What if they kept him here, passing around the whip, not bothering to stop?

“Ok, that’s it,” Luke called out. “You’ve had your fun Andy, we’ve got other things to do now.” Steve trembled on the cross. Luke walked to his side. “Traffic light?” he asked. 

“Green,” Steve choked out. 

“You asked for it,” Luke said. “Get him down, people.”

Steve felt the cuffs unsnap from the cross and felt strangely abandoned, for a moment. Then the cuffs were snapped back behind his back, and he was led over to a bench. 

“Oh,” he said in a small voice. 

“Yep,” Luke replied. “That’s a breeding bench, if you’re lucky. We’re gonna get your ass up and see if you deserve to be fucked.” 

Steve shivered, his cock hardening between his legs. Luke swatted it, and Steve jumped. 

“But first you’re gonna have to take something for us,” Luke said. “It’s gonna be uncomfortable, boy.” Luke gestured to the bench, and Steve sat down. Someone moved behind him and snapped the cuffs into the bench. Another person of an indeterminate gender snapped a spreader bar between his ankle cuffs. The room formed a semicircle around him as he sat on the bench, legs splayed, his erect cock exposed between his legs. 

A woman stepped forward, a tray of thin metal rods in her hand. She set the tray down next to him and picked up the thinnest, coating it in lube. She snapped a pair of gloves on and grasped his cock, raising the rod over it. Suddenly, Steve understood what was about to happen, and struggled to move away, unable to stop a whimper of fear. She swatted his dick. 

“If you move, I’m really going to hurt you,” she said sternly. “Are you going to stop whining and behave?” Steve closed his eyes. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he whimpered. 

“Open your eyes,” she commanded sharply. “I want you to watch this happen.”

Steve opened his eyes. The tip of the sound began to probe his slit and slide in. He whimpered in distress, trembling hard. “There, there,” she said, “good boy, it’s not so bad.” The sound didn’t stop moving, hard and ice-cold as it sank deeper into his dick. He’d never been penetrated like this before, never felt so vulnerable, all eyes in the room on the metal rod sliding deeper into his prick. He started to soften. 

“Shh,” the woman said, massing his balls. He felt the rod penetrate the base of his dick, and he hissed. 

“That’s sweet,” another woman called out. 

A man laughed. “My ass! Fucking sadists.”

The woman holding the tip of the rod smiled sharply. Her gloved hand rubbed his cock firmly but gently, coaxing him back to hardness. “That’s it,” she praised, “you can do it baby.” Steve was riveted; there was nothing in the world but the sound in his prick and the woman’s hands. “Just one more for today,” she soothed.

Steve shook his head. “I can’t-“ he started.

“Oh sweetheart,” she said, “I didn’t ask you.” She pulled out the sound in one fluid motion, and lubricant leaked out of the tip of his dick. She lubed up another sound, a wider one, and he held his breath. He heard telltale quiet slapping noises and grunts in the background; a few of the men were jerking off. 

She held the sound over Steve’s leaking slit. He stayed as still as he could, barely breathing. He couldn’t take it; it would tear it’s way through his cock, he knew it-

The sound began to slide inside, stretching him slightly, but gravity took its course. 

“Good boy,” she praised, jerking his cock gently with her other hand. “You’re taking it so well.” 

Steve flushed and found that he liked it, that he wanted to take the fear and the soreness in his dick for her. He looked up at her with wide eyes, slipping into a deeply calm place, more vulnerable and trusting than he could remember feeling since- since before. 

“That’s it,” she soothed. The sound slid in to the base of his dick. “That’s what I wanted. That’s right.” She pulled the sound out, and he felt empty and a little sore where he never imagined he could have felt this vulnerable. She petted his hair. 

“Wow, that boy’s _under_ ,” a man commented. Steve kept his eyes on the woman, and she smiled. Someone behind him unbuckled the cuffs from one another, and another person bent to lift his legs to the bench. He didn’t resist. He was floating. Hands rolled him over onto his stomach, and he felt the woman’s hand travel down his spine, soothing. 

Luke crouched down in front of him. “How are you doing, kid?”

“Green, green, please,” Steve said thickly. 

Luke nodded and stood. 

“Alright, all of you,” he called, “get his ass up, wrists buckled down and held, spreader bar between his knees, ankles secured. Go.”

Hands covered Steve all over his body simultaneously, clipping in his wrists and ankles, hands firmly holding down each wrist and ankle. The position of the bench forced his ass into the air, his dick hanging low between his thighs. The spreader bar moved up between his knees, forcing his legs apart and exposing his hole. 

It was humiliating. He was surrounded by people, fully clothed, most of them with their pants unzipped as they touched themselves. Their hands were all over him, brushing over his head, his back, his hole, his balls as they pleased. He was nervous about what was about to happen. But he also felt calm, and somehow safer than he’d been earlier in the day. He was grounded in their touch, ready to be taken. The walls inside his head that he’d beaten against trying to get out were thinning, and he was feeling more than he’d been able to since the ice. He wanted to surrender. He wanted to be hurt, used, taken till he broke. 

Someone trailed a finger down his spine, over his hole. He shivered. The hand grasped his thigh and he recognized it- Luke. 

“You’re not getting fucked just yet,” he said. “But you’re doing beautifully.” 

“Mark?” Luke said. “All yours.”

Steve felt thin needles pierce the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and he panted, clenching and unclenching his hands as he tried to control the pain. When Mark was done, he slapped Steve’s thighs, and Steve cried out. 

The needles began to come out, one by one, with dozens of sharp little points of pain. Thin trickles of blood moved down his thighs. 

“Beautiful,” someone whispered. 

Someone moved forward and rubbed their hard cock in the crack of Steve’s ass, grasping his hip. 

“Something you want?” they said. 

“Yes,” Steve said, “please, please-“

The person laughed. “You might not be saying that in a minute.” They slapped Steve’s balls, and Steve hissed. 

“Bitch like you shouldn’t have balls,” they said. “Only balls you should have on you are the ones slapping against your ass when you get bred. How’m I gonna fix that?” they asked. They squeezed Steve’s balls in his fist, and Steve whimpered.

“I’ll tie ‘em up,” someone with a deep voice volunteered. 

Steve felt rope slide around his balls in a deceptive caress, and he jerked forward, thrusting involuntarily. Someone slapped his ass, tsking. The rope tightened in a vise, and Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to come. His balls were already starting to feel sore, strained. 

“That’s better,” the person from before rumbled. Someone spat on Steve’s ass, and a thick finger pressed into his mouth. “Get it nice and wet,” they said, “if you know what’s good for you.” Steve sucked the finger sloppily, coating it in spit. Then the finger moved back to his asshole, and pressed inside. It burned, and Steve hissed, but he stayed in position. The finger started to fuck him, and Steve heard the slapping of people around him jerking off. Someone next to him grunted, and warm sticky cum covered Steve’s back. 

“Someone take his mouth,” Luke ordered. 

A man in front of him rubbed his cock over Steve’s lips, but Steve didn’t open his mouth, concentrating on the finger inside him. A second finger penetrated him, and he jerked forward, away from the burning intrusion. The man in front of him tsked and grabbed his jaw, forcing it open. 

“Open wide,” he said mockingly. Someone shoved a contraption with lines of steel between his teeth, forcing his lips into a circle around a wide O. The man in front of him patted his face, then started to feed him his cock. Steve groaned, working on muscle memory, and pressed forward until the man was in his throat. 

“Holy shit,” the man hissed, and threaded his fingers through the hair behind Steve’s head, holding him firmly as he fucked Steve’s throat. “Good boy,” he growled as Steve laved the underside of his cock. 

A third thick finger pushed into his asshole, and his groan was muffled around the cock in his mouth. The man didn’t last long, pressing in deep to cum in Steve’s throat, forcing him to swallow. Someone else above him groaned and finished. The man whose cock he’d sucked leaned down and kissed him filthily around the spider-gag. “Damn,” he breathed. Steve flushed with pride. 

Another cock began pressing into his mouth, a strap-on. The person using it groaned and petted his hair with one hand, praising him, while they ground onto the strap on with their other hand. “Damn you take cock so well,” they moaned. 

Steve felt the fingers in his ass withdraw and braced himself. The person behind him spat audibly and began coating their cock. The thick, blunt head pressed against Steve’s entrance, and it yielded. Steve scrabbled, unable to help himself as he fought the burn of the rough penetration. The person held his hips in place firmly and growled, thrusting. Steve made a garbled noise. 

“Ok, back,” Luke said in front of him. The cock in his mouth retreated. 

“Traffic light?” Luke asked. 

“Green, green,” Steve moaned, the word coming out slightly garbled. Luke patted his shoulder. The person fucking him buried themself to the hilt, balls pressing against his ass as they came. Steve flushed as he felt the warm rush of cum inside him. The person pulled out, and cum trickled out of Steve’s ass. 

Another, thicker cock took its place seconds later, and Steve thumped his fist on the bench at the burn, eased by the cum slicking the way. Another man took his mouth again. Steve’s balls ached, and he thought he might actually go insane from the lack of friction on his cock. The man in front of him pulled out, coming over Steve’s face. 

“Please,” Steve begged, “please, please, please.” He grunted as the thrusts behind him grew faster and harsher till the person behind him shouted and came, more cum trickling out of Steve’s ass as the man pulled out. Someone quickly took his place, and Steve groaned at the friction on his abused hole. 

“Please what, baby?” someone shouted. A woman with long, wavy brown hair removed the gag. “Please touch my cock,” he begged. Someone quickly started playing with his cock, jerking it slowly, and Steve moaned loudly. He felt more cum coating his back as the person jerking off over him came. 

The firm, incredible touches on Steve’s cock continued, and he sobbed in need, his balls aching. “Please, it hurts,” he said. The touches to his cock stopped, and he nearly started crying. The cock in his ass pulled out, replaced by someone’s lubed fingers. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there,” Luke said from behind him, twisting his fingers. Adding a fourth. “You trust me?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Steve sobbed. Luke’s thumb pressed at his rim. “How’s that?”

“Green, sir, please, please let me come, I need it, please-“

“Shh,” Luke soothed, “just a little longer. You’ve been so good.” His thumb breached Steve’s ass, and tears began to trickle down Steve’s face. He was gone, his walls shattered as the man’s fist forced him open. Someone touched his balls, untying the rope. “You’re so good for me, Steve,” Luke said. 

_“You’re so good for me, Stevie,” Bucky said, two fingers breaching him now. Steve felt loved, safe, wanted. “Always so good for me.”_

Steve sobbed openly now. Someone petted his hair, another person his flank, another his spine. Luke’s fist pressed against his prostate. “Come for me now, Steve,” Luke said gently. Steve came, sobbing uncontrollably. 

“Red,” Luke said. “Someone help me get him out. You, get me wet towels. And a blanket. You, get me some water.” 

“You’re so strong, Steve,” Luke praised. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you. Never seen anything like it.” The cuffs unbuckled, but Steve wasn’t ready to leave his headspace. Warm arms encircled him, and he leaned into them, sobbing. “Shh, I’m right here,” Luke soothed. “You’re ok, you’re going to be ok.” 

Luke turned him to the side, and warm towels scrubbed him, cleaning off blood and sweat and cum. The towels moved over his back, his face, his ass, his dick. Steve opened his eyes, and one of the people with the towels kissed his forehead. His crying evened out, and people began to leave the room, some of them kissing him or saluting him. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders when he began to shiver. 

The tears should have mortified him, but after all he’d just experienced he couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed. He was relieved. He felt lighter, emptied out but not hollow. His body ached pleasantly, and he hiccupped a laugh. 

“You among the living?” Luke smiled, settling in to cuddle Steve as he drifted back to full awareness. 

“Yeah,” Steve said, blinking at the colors in the room. Damn, he wanted to draw this place. “I’m here.”

**Author's Note:**

> lol did anyone get the sam joke?? :D Smart Ass Masochist? Anyone? 
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr!](http://appalachianfireflies.tumblr.com) Ask questions, vent your feels. I'm here for you.


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